


Fatal Secrets

by MinervaDashwood



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, F/M, Oneshot, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinervaDashwood/pseuds/MinervaDashwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot of a lengthier teen-AU that I never finished. The autumn after the dissolution of BAaT, Kaidan meets Earthborn Desiree Shepard at the Alliance's military school based in Toronto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fatal Secrets

  
“You don’t have any weapons classes on here,” Akio Alenko observed, staring at Kaidan’s class schedule.

“Biotics don’t have to take weapons classes until their final semester,” Kaidan replied.  They had this conversation every term, even during Brain Camp:  his father sitting across the dining room table, his mother pretending not to listen from the den.

“I don’t like this, Kaidan.  What are these engineering classes?  Now tactical training, I get, but why Omni-Tool Efficiency?”

“Don’t want to rely on the biotics too much.  Need a backup.”  Kaidan traced the table’s etching with his fingernail.  _But your biotics are part of who you are_ , he remembered Mona the Therapist say.  Along with _Unfortunate accident_.  And _not your fault_.

“Firearms are the only backup you need.” Akio pointed a finger at him. “I know the Alliance is different these days, but a soldier’s gun is still his best friend.” Akio scanned the schedule again.  “I’m putting in a call.  They’re not sending my son into the marines without the proper skills.”

He eyed his father through hooded lashes as Akio connected to the extranet in the next room.  Kaidan imagined holding an SMG, the clips puttering out, lodging themselves into someone’s skin. Rhana’s, maybe.  His mother’s. His hands shook; sweat soaked his palms.  He shoved his hands under the table and clenched his fingers around his knees.

 _I’m more lethal than any weapon_ , he reminded himself.  He wanted to claw the implant from under his hairline, envisioned his fingernails scraping away at shredded skin, index finger and thumb delving into the base of his skull and ripping out the blood-covered synthetic damper.  And then all that eezo energy would run rampant, infecting his body with a quick-killing cancer the doctors were always worried about.

His mother stood behind him, sighing in the doorway and Kaidan let go of his knees.  He didn’t need to upset her, and he feared being hospitalized - again - if he appeared unstable.

Akio cleared his throat and strode back into the dining room.  “Level one sidearms, 0800. You can keep the tech classes as long as your score well in firearms.  Your mother and I will cover the extra tuition.”

“Who did you call, Akio?” His mother slipped into the room and rested her hands on Kaidan’s shoulders.

“Colonel Ripley. He owed me a favor.”

She squeezed Kaidan’s shoulders gently.  “That alright, K?

Kaidan glanced at his father and didn’t dare contradicting the glare he found in Akio’s eyes.

“Fine, Mom.”

===

The transport shuttle whizzed by countryside and cityscapes alike, carrying Desiree Shepard from Chicago to Toronto.  She scratched at her fresh scar, feeling the skin sting along the first wound she had that didn't come from a street fight.

Demarcated.  Categorized.  She pulled loose her ponytail and draped her shoulder-length hair over the laceration. Like that would hide anything. 

She was alone in the compartment, although an MP guarded the door, and she still felt exposed from the inside out, like the Alliance goons had just delved into her insides and raided her body for all the secrets it held.  And now she was constantly on their radar, under their surveillance.  
She instinctively reached to her calf for a blade that wasn't there. Her fingers itched for a pistol that they'd wrangled from her days ago.

 _You'll learn to control those biotics_ , they told her. _Better than any sidearm_.  That was what the scar was for: to stop the headaches, to prevent catastrophes.  

When she found out they were putting her into military school, she’d begged them for weapons classes.  When they agreed quickly, she hadn’t known what to make of it.  What was she to them, anyway?  Some street kid, nothing more.  But they kept talking about the eezo, how much she’d been exposed to, why she hadn’t given into the lure of Red Sand.

But Red Sand’s only allure to her was its credit value.  It changed hands so quickly on the streets that it was easily the backbone of any gang’s success.  Well most gangs, since hers had gone down fast, even though its Red Sand suppliers were plentiful.  Bones had made one bad call, trusted the wrong buyers.  Or something.  Des still couldn’t muddle through how it went down.

She reminded herself that turning herself in was the right call.  Bones and the others had been murdered.  Not just shot, but slain, skins filleted, limbs dislodged.  She shuddered at the memories of the safe house, its eerie silence and blood-covered walls.  Luck was the only thing that kept her from being killed alongside the others.  

Well, Desiree’s version of luck.  Since she’d been at the med clinic getting the positive pregnancy test and the subsequent abortion at the same time Bones and the others were getting murdered.

Because of that, it was only a matter of time before whoever’d done it would find her.  Unless she squealed first.  With Bones gone, after all, loyalty and protection quickly became obsolete.  

She stared at the blur of greens and browns as the shuttle sped along a sparsely wooded passage.  She shuddered in her seat and reminded herself that Toronto was miles of expensive transport from Chicago.  

She wasn’t worth looking for anyway.

===

_Monday, 0800. First day of classes._

  
Kaidan didn't need to hear the rumors to see it. She was five-foot-five of ferocity, short black ponytail giving the slightest bob when she picked up the weapon.  Like Kaidan, everyone watched the Earthborn street kid as she assembled the pistol and checked its sights.  She squared her shoulders; the ponytail stilled as her cinnamon colored hands gripped the gun. Head tilted, stance confident and unwavering. With barely a second’s hesitation, she unloaded twelve rounds into the target in less than five seconds, and his heart seemed to beat in time with the gun: _bam bam bam. thump thump thump._  
  
 He felt the corners of his mouth quirk, but he held a frown in place.  
  
The instructor downloaded the target schematics to the school’s records and to Shepard’s omnitool.  Shepard’s screen was still lit when she walked back to her seat next to him, and he studied all the tiny marks clustered around the center of the target.  She sank into the chair next to him, smelling faintly of thermal clips, and Kaidan's heart was still hammering like an assault rifle with an extended clip.  
  
"Not bad," he said, hands flat on the table, eyes shifting away from the dimmed omni-tool to meet her impassive gaze.  
  
"Easy when no one's shooting back." She eyed him sideways, and he felt unduly scrutinized by a flash in her amber eyes.  
  
She broke her gaze and scratched at the base of her neck, wincing slightly.  Kaidan watched her hand drift away, and he caught sight of a familiar scar at the base of her hairline  
  
He pulled short strands of his (barely) regulation length hair over his matching scar, and stared at his hands as he placed them on the table.  She wasn’t just an Earthborn gangster, but a biotic.    
  
Her scar was new, he realized.  Any biotics their age he’d met at BAat. Which meant any biotics his age didn’t talk to him, didn’t get near him.    
He took his hands off the table and slid them into his lap.  But she didn’t know that, did she?  Didn’t know about the dead turian and the traumatized classmates.  Didn’t know that an L2 like him was a walking detonation.  
  
“Alenko.  Alenko. ALENKO!”    
  
The instructor was shouting his name, and Kaidan hadn’t even noticed.  He caught the Earthborn’s eyes, an expressionless amber glow still staring at him, and he found his way up to the weapons table.

  
He picked up the pistol, a standard issue, but it felt unfamiliar and heavy in his hand.  He knew the basic mechanisms, but only in theory, since he’d never assembled a gun before.  Even though his father was a retired marine, Kaidan had spent more time away from home than anywhere else.  And those years at Brain Camp didn’t exactly rely on firearms.

Thankfully, he slid the thermal clip in correctly, and he felt a noticeable relief when the gun clicked and it’s temperature gauge plummeted.  He cradled the grip with both hands, but sweat gathered in his palms.  He pointed at the target, forgetting to line up the sights, and pulled the trigger. 

The pistol kicked, jerking his hands out of alignment, and Kaidan’s body grew incredibly tense.  His stomach wrapped in on itself, his heart thumped nervously.  

“Unload the entire clip, Alenko,” the instructor said, voice stern.

Kaidan took a deep breath, just like he would before trying form a biotic field, and set his shoulders.  This time, he remembered the kick and managed to maintain control.  But his aim was still off.  

He tried again, eyeing the sights, but his entire body felt like it was shaking.  Eyes bored into his backside. The instructor radiated disapproval, and at any minute Kaidan expected to be thrown to the floor or berated in front of his classmates.

But none of that happened.  Instead, the firing range was silent.  

 _Breathe_ , Kaidan told himself, filling his lungs and counting to five, exhaling slowing and counting again, just as Mona had taught him.  
His body still held itself in tightly, but he no longer felt as if he were shaking all over.  He planted his feet again and bent his knees a little.  Taking another deep breath, he aimed the pistol, angling it until the sights lined up.  He squeezed the trigger.

The round slammed into the target’s upper left corner.

“Good, son,” the instructor said, _sotte voce_ so only Kaidan could hear.  The encouragement startled Kaidan, but also eased some of the tension.  He fired again, this time letting loose the rest of the rounds until the temp gauge reached its maximum level.  Slowly and carefully, he dislodged the thermal clip and set the gun down.

  
The instructor downloaded Kaidan’s target to his omnitool, and Kaidan quickly scanned the results just to realize he never hit the human silhouette, but he had managed to keep most of the rounds in the target’s frame.

“Stick with Shepard, Alenko,” the instructor ordered.  “She’s your sidearm partner for the term.”

Kaidan swallowed against an anxious lump in his throat, nodded, and walked back to his seat.

The Earthborn Shepard’s eyes glared at him, and he felt like he owed her some sort of apology.

When he sank into his seat, she mumbled, “Wouldn’t mind getting into a fight with you.  No chance in hell I’d lose.”

“Uh…yeah…” Kaidan stammered.  _She doesn’t know_ , he reminded himself pressing his palms into his knees under the table.  He gave it until the end of the day before she found out from the other kids, before she begged the instructor to give her a different partner.  
  



End file.
